


Sweet Creature

by ivorysteel



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Future Fic, Gay Bucky Barnes, Getting Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:34:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24233647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivorysteel/pseuds/ivorysteel
Summary: After the events of the Snap, Sam and Bucky move into a cabin together. It's peaceful and domestic and Sam finds himself accidentally having fallen in love with Bucky Barnes.Basically, a whole lot of domesticity. And everyone thinks they're dating already.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson
Comments: 17
Kudos: 149





	Sweet Creature

**Author's Note:**

> All titles are from songs! Hope you enjoy and please leave comments and kudos!

  1. **sweet creature**



Five years ago, before Sam had died, his friends had all been alive, he’d had an apartment and a job, and known who he was.

Now, his friends were scattered or dead and he’d been swept out of Washington by the chaos of the newly Returned, clinging onto the shield with one hand and Bucky with the other. It was a matching set, he supposed, and despite his griping and complaining, he wouldn’t give up either of them for the world.

“You should practice more,” Bucky said, returning from wherever he went for his morning runs. Sam hadn’t been invited on them yet. “Throwing and catching. You don’t have the serum to help you.”

Sam glared at the shield, kicking it under the porch chair. “I’m just trying to enjoy my coffee and you start criticising me.”

Bucky bounded up the steps and threw himself on the chair next to Sam, resting his feet on Sam’s lap. He pouted and Sam reluctantly handed over the coffee. “Good run,” Bucky commented like Sam hadn’t spoken. “It’s cold, though. Gonna snow tonight.”

“Snow?” Sam wrinkled his nose, glancing up at the sky. Blue all around with the sun shining.

The cabin was one of Natasha’s safe houses and in June, they’d decided to move until the new Avengers facility was built. It was finished in early August but they’d decided to stay. Well, Bucky had come home with three chickens, proposed that they keep them for eggs, and asked if they could get a goat. _Since we might be living here for a while_ , he had said, giving Sam a wide-eyed hopeful look. _Are we?_ Sam vetoed the goat, helped name the chickens ( _clint, wanda_ and _scott_ ) and had suggested they go furniture shopping.

That had been another PR scandal, as well as Steve’s mysterious disappearance and Sam getting the shield. Right before Sam had deleted his social media, he’d seen the tweets about him and Bucky going to IKEA.

Bucky nudged Sam out of his daydream and he cleared his throat, squinting up at Bucky’s smiley face through the sun. “Pancakes?”

“Sounds good.”

  1. **what if i’m down?**



It had snowed.

“You can’t go running in this,” Sam said as Bucky laced up his running sneakers. The snow had surrounded the cabin, practically cementing the door shut, and he could barely see the tree line.

Bucky frowned out of the window, running a hand through his shorn hair. They’d cut it in the August heatwave when Bucky kept losing his hair ties but was too hot to wear it down. “I could do some yoga. Shuri showed me how to get videos up on WhoTube.”

“YouTube,” Sam corrected him but Bucky wasn’t even listening. Sam swore he did it on purpose sometimes. Bucky jabbed away at the TV remote and eventually managed to get some yoga workout up. Sam left him to it, stretching and groaning away, in exchange for Netflix in bed.

They had a lazy day – Sam moving to the couch for Netflix after Bucky’s workout – watching true crime documentaries and snacking on a box of Lucky Charms. Sam had cooked up some semblance of a meal for dinner then they went to bed after another documentary.

Sam had just settled, plugging his phone in to charge, and was staring at the moonlight trickling in through the window, when he heard the creaking of the floorboards outside his room. Then the gentle rap of knuckles on his door.

“Come in,” he called out and Bucky tiptoed in, holding a blanket around his shoulders. “You okay? Nightmares?”

“No.” Bucky shifted. “Haven’t had one in a while. Not like the old ones anyway. But I…I was just wondering if I could sleep with you. I don’t like the cold.”

Sam thought about Bucky’s past. It made sense. “Come here,” Sam said, pulling the covers away. Bucky crawled into the space next to him, plumping up his pillow. “You comfy?”

“Relatively.” Bucky smiled at him in the dim light then closed his eyes. “Night, Sammy.”

“Sweet dreams, James.”

  * **waiting for me**



Sam had woken up to Bucky stealing all the blankets but it was past eight in the morning so he didn’t mind too much. Besides, it meant he could have the first shower without Bucky steaming up the bathroom and making all their towels damp.

He took his time, using Bucky’s fancy exfoliator, and when he got dressed, Bucky was cooking up a storm of eggs in the kitchen. “Put the toast in,” he said in lieu of a greeting.

Neither of them mentioned the bed-sharing and once they’d finished the last slice of toast, Sam suggested facetiming Pepper. She picked up on the third ring.

“Morning, boys.” She smiled. “I saw it was snowing round your parts. Morgan’s very jealous.”

“We’re going sledging this afternoon,” Bucky announced. Sam had been wildly unaware of that but he didn’t mind. It’d be a welcome change from staying stagnant on the couch. “What are you guys up to?”

“It’s Happy’s birthday tomorrow so we’re flying to New York this afternoon. May Parker’s throwing a party.”

“You didn’t throw _me_ a birthday party,” Bucky said, glaring accusingly at Sam.

“I bought you a cake!” He had, actually. Gooey chocolate with sprinkles on top – _and_ he’d gotten him some paint supplies for art therapy. “You didn’t do anything for _my_ birthday.”

“We went out for dinner,” Bucky reminded him. “Alfuccio’s.”

Sam did remember that, actually. They’d had about five courses and almost fallen asleep on the drive home. But they went every Thursday so the dinners had blended together after a while. “Oh, yeah,” he said and Pepper laughed.

“You sound like an old married couple,” she said then face dimmed momentarily and Sam felt the need to apologise. “I’d better get going anyway – I still need to pack Morgan’s bags. I’ll text you when we’ve landed.”

“Say hi to New York from us,” Bucky said. When they went back to superhero-ing full time, they needed to have the conversation about where they were going to live. Pepper ended the call with a wave and Bucky reached for the pot of coffee. “Wrap up. I’m planning on a snowball fight as well.”

Sam _had_ intended to win the snowball fight but he found himself covered in snow as Bucky stood at the top of the hill, looking determined. He was pretty sure that this wasn’t what Steve had left the shield for but neither Sam nor Steve could ever begrudge Bucky a little happiness.

“Hurry up!” Sam called. “I’m freezing.”

They’d spent the last half hour on _normal_ sledges going up and down the hill then Bucky had ran back inside and come out with the shield. “I’ve always wondered,” he’d said at Sam’s incredulous stare. “Don’t tell me you’ve _never_ thought about it.”

Now he was sitting down, testing his balance, and Sam couldn’t help but laugh. His hair was damp from snow and windswept, hands encased in bright green gloves, and he was kicking his heels on the ground like an overexcited child. Sam wished he had brought a camera out with him.

Then Bucky was a blur going down the hill, his laughter spilling out after him, and Sam only had a few seconds to process before Bucky hit him full-force and they both sprawled out on the ground. Although cold water was seeping through his clothes, all he could think about was Bucky on top of him.

Bucky’s smile faded but he didn’t move to get off. Instead he looked down at Sam like he was surprised to see him there. Sam could feel his heart pounding and wondered if that was a normal response. Adrenaline. Maybe. He’d have probably felt so dizzy and nervous if it had been Steve on top of him. 260 pounds of super soldier was no joke. But he would have laughed it off with Steve, shoved him away and they’d be back racing up the hill.

Bucky was silently staring down at him and Sam was quietly looking back.

“Bucky,” Sam said and within a second, Bucky had scrambled off him, sweeping a hand through his hair.

“Hot chocolate?”

  1. **you deserve a house**



Bucky hadn’t come into Sam’s bed that night.

The next morning, Sam woke up wrapped in blankets and the bathroom was full of steam but he couldn’t find it in himself to get angry.

The whole day just felt off. Sam didn’t know what it was – maybe it was because Bucky was avoiding him, maybe it was because Sam was avoiding something else – but it unnerved him. He spent the day in the kitchen, replying to emails and reading a book he’d downloaded on his iPad. Bucky only emerged from his bedroom at six, looking pale and conflicted.

“I ordered takeout from Alfuccio’s,” he said. “Lasagne and garlic bread, enough for both of us, and he said he’d bring a complimentary bottle of wine, too. Apparently we’re his best customers.”

“I could kiss you,” Sam sighed. “Just let me get showered.”

Sam opted for his cleanest white t-shirt over sweatpants and wandered back to the kitchen to find the table fully dressed up, with candles, napkins and two steaming bowls of pasta.

“This looks amazing,” Sam said and Bucky looked like he was _blushing_. Sam decided not to tease, since they’d been on such shaky foundations all day.

“Sit down.” Bucky almost pushed him into his seat. “Wine, monsieur?”

“Why thank you, good sir.”

Bucky sat down and they both tucked in. It wasn’t until twenty minutes later than Sam felt happy, his stomach threatening to burst through his sweatpants, and he leaned back in his chair, watching Bucky.

“What did you want?” Sam asked without thinking. “Back then – in the war. I remember Steve always talking about how he wanted to get married, have kids, the whole white picket fence…did you?”

“Stevie was always a romantic.” Bucky chuckled and picked up his wine before putting it back down again and glancing at Sam. “I wanted fun and dances and fast living. Then I got enlisted. Being in the Commandos was a different kind of fun but not the same. There was always the threat of losing the people you cared about just around the corner. And of course, we _did_ lose people. It was just part of the war.” Sam had heard it all from Steve before but this was the first time Bucky had talked about it. “I could never really dream about the future the same way as Steve though. Can’t exactly think about marriage and kids when you’re a gay man in the 40s.”

“I—” Sam paused and thought over what had just been said. “You’re—”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” Sam cleared his throat. “I’d say I’m proud of you or some shit but that just seems condescending. I’m sure it was tough back then and I’m glad you can be who you are now.” Bucky nodded and Sam reached over to take his hand over the table. “Did Steve know?”

“Oh, everyone fucking knew. They just chose to ignore it.” Bucky laughed and Sam felt his fingers squeeze involuntarily around Sam’s as he did. “I’m surprised it wasn’t all over the history books.”

“People have a habit of altering history to something they’d prefer to celebrate.”

“Well, I’d like to celebrate properly.” Bucky smiled. “Celebrate myself. And everyone other suppressed kid I knew back then. At New York’s next pride parade. I’m sure Pepper could get us a float.”

“Imagine Fury’s face.”

  1. **not one for surrender**



The snow had melted and they could finally warm up the engine of their old Jeep and drive into town for groceries. Sam felt more content than he’d been in months.

“We need to get some chicken feed,” Sam said absently as they parked on the high street. They hopped out the car and Bucky waved at the owner of his favourite bakery.

“Hi, boys!” She called, jogging over. “We were all worried about you – stuck out in that house.”

“Oh, we were alright,” Bucky said. He threw an arm around Sam’s shoulders and grinned. “Sammy here lost our snowball fight but I made it up to him with dinner.”

“Oh, you’re a charmer.” Alicia smiled. “Wouldn’t you ever want to move closer to town rather than being in that old place by yourselves? You could bring the chickens.” She had come to the cabin a couple of times for Bucky’s birthday and the occasional coffee. It was the closest Sam had had to a normal friend since he met Steve.

“You’re only saying that so you can have more dinner dates with Bucky,” Sam said. Bucky was (surprisingly) the most beloved person in town – and when Sam tried to tell them what an asshole he really was, Bucky would just flutter his eyelashes and smile that irritating fucking smile.

“If only I was a few years younger,” she replied. Sam decided not to mention that Bucky _technically_ was a lot of years older. “What are you boys here for anyway?”

“Groceries.” Bucky sighed dramatically, collapsing against Sam’s chest.. “It’s my turn to go round the store.” Ever since Sam and Bucky’s first few joint grocery trips, they’d realised that they could never go food shopping together. It always inevitably ended in a fight. So when they went shopping, once a week, they’d alternate while the other wandered round town. Normally, they’d go for a coffee afterwards, too, but Sam knew Bucky wanted to get back early. Chicken Clint hadn’t been feeling too well.

“Well, while you’re working hard,” Alicia said with a wink at Sam, “there’s a new clothing shop down the high street, Sam. Got some more trendy clothes for you.”

Sam laughed, glancing down at the coat he was wearing. It was an old one of Steve’s – ugly plaid. “See you in a bit,” he told Bucky, ruffling his hair. Bucky glared but blew a kiss willingly enough as he headed to the grocery store.

“I’ve got you something,” Sam said over dinner.

Bucky looked up from his soup, surprised, and Sam grinned. He’d meant to keep it a secret for a little while longer, maybe wrap it up in some nice paper, but he’d never been good at patience. “What is it?”

“Well, that defeats the whole point.” Sam nodded his head towards his backpack and Bucky abandoned the meal and grabbed it, unzipping it and pulling out the sweater.

The new clothing store in town was owned by some kid who had grown up there and returned from college, eager to bring some modernity into the town. Or so he’d told Sam. Sam just liked the clothes and he appreciated the enthusiasm. _I’ve got a guy,_ he’d said, _who is stuck in the past. Thought I’d buy him something nice for the cold weather_. They’d both browsed for a little while until Sam had found the perfect thing.

“Sammy,” Bucky said, his voice broken. He had already pulled the sweater over his t-shirt. It was white and soft inside but had the words _Love is Love_ emblazoned over the front in black with a little rainbow embroidered over his heart.

“You like it?”

Bucky seemed to deliberate over that, staring down at the rainbow on his chest. Sam had worried it was too much but _dramatic_ was Bucky’s middle name most of the time. He imagined him wearing it to Avengers meeting, when they came off this extended vacation, proudly showing himself off, with Sam by his side. That last thought made Sam pause but before he could overthink it, Bucky was coming over and planting a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“I love it,” he said and he seemed to mean it.

  1. **don’t you think it’s easy**



The next morning, the cold seemed to have eased off enough for them to start shovelling it into small piles around the house.

“It’s killed my babies,” Bucky called over his shoulder as he prodded at his vegetable patch. Sam was on the porch chair, huddled up in Bucky’s new sweatshirt. It really was a good buy.

“They’ll grow back in summer,” Sam replied. His phone rang in his lap and he answered the Facetime call while Bucky carried on shovelling. They’d tossed a coin for the job. “Hey, Pepper. How was Happy’s birthday?”

“May kissed his cheek and he knocked the cake over. Then Peter’s girlfriend came round and he got all embarrassed and red.” Pepper smiled into the camera. “It was quite sweet, actually. And nothing set on fire, so it was a success, I suppose. How are you?”

“Same old.” Sam glanced up and found Bucky watching a squirrel that had darted down into their front yard to pick at the bird feeder. When he looked back at his phone, Pepper’s smile had widened and she looked almost smug. “What?”

“You got a girlfriend or something out there?” She asked.

“No. Just Bucky. Why?”

“Oh. No reason.” Then she ducked her head out of frame and he heard her laugh, but before he could question it, she was back, and composed. “How is he anyway?”

“Fucking freezing!” Bucky responded as he came over, shoving Sam out of the way to sit on the arm of his chair. He leaned over and beamed at Pepper on the screen and Sam couldn’t help but breathe in his banana scented conditioner. “Sammy’s had me out at all hours in the middle of the coldest winter in years.”

“Shut up.” Sam rolled his eyes and returned to the screen. “He lost a coin toss so he’s had to tidy the garden up a little. By the way I got up early and fed the chickens this morning. _Your_ chickens.”

“Well, it’s not my fault I had to get chickens. You wouldn’t let me get goats. Or a dog.” That had been another argument. Bucky wanted a cat but it was too dangerous to let any cat roam around in the woods, especially with the foxes and suspected mountain lions. Bucky always swore he’d seen one when he was running once. His next idea was a dog but even he’d conceded to admit that they couldn’t look after a dog when they went back to superhero-ing. “How’s Morgan?” Bucky added.

Pepper started telling them about Morgan’s first day at her new school and it was a sweet story – funny and _very_ Tony – but all Sam could think about was the warmth of Bucky’s hand on his shoulder.

They were watching some shitty made-for-TV movie about adoption when Sam said it.

“I’d want a surrogate. If I was to settle down.”

Bucky seemed like he was trying not to stare, his eyes focused on the bowl of popcorn. Since that morning, they’d just done odd jobs around the house. Sam was exhausted from painting the dining room (per Bucky’s insistence), muscles aching, and when he was tired, he had no filter.

“What about a wife?” Bucky asked.

_What about a wife_? The thought hadn’t even crossed Sam’s mind – the obvious part of settling down. Except when he _really_ thought about it, he’d been imagining a life that wasn’t much different from the one he had now. A cosy house by a lake and some trees with friendly neighbours and a small farm. He’d get a job, he decided, to busy himself. He wanted kids, too.

And someone to share it with. Someone to kiss goodbye in the morning, someone to share their kids’ first steps with, someone to fall asleep next to at night even when they were arguing. He tried to imagine a woman, her features blurry, but with floral dresses and soft smiles. And all he could see was Bucky.

The revelation wasn’t as surprising as Sam thought it would be. He sneaked a side glance at Bucky who had returned to watching the movie like his question had already been answered. The past year had been hard. But they had gone through the bad shit together. Him and Bucky. And the good stuff, too. Birthday cakes and Valentine’s rom-com marathons and the time Bucky had taught Sam how to jive.

“I…” Sam started and Bucky looked at him with those big blue eyes. “I don’t really want a wife.”

“No?” Bucky was still staring at him, tucking strands of hair behind his ears. _It needs cutting again_ , Sam thought.

“No.” He paused. I’m kind of stuck on someone else.”

It was the best way he could phrase it without Bucky realising that Sam was suddenly – or maybe not so suddenly, thinking about it – madly in love with him. But he probably knew already because instead of asking who, Bucky just nudged into his shoulder and pulled the blanket a little tighter around them.

  * **inside this swimming pool**



Bucky kissed Sam at eight o’clock the next morning.

Sam barely had time to process the gentle press of lips against his own before Bucky had stepped away, a smile twisting his lips. “I’m kind of stuck on someone, too,” Bucky said. Sam waited for a beat but Bucky wasn’t running away, wasn’t apologising. Instead he just picked up his coffee and raised an eyebrow. “I wanted to do that last night but I didn’t know if you were talking about me. Then I drove out to Alicia’s house while you were sleeping. Did you know that she thought we were dating?”

“I’d guessed.”

“The whole town thinks we’re together. And Pepper. And Parker. Barton. Wanda. Lang. And remember all the comments Nat used to make and we thought she was just trying to annoy us because we hated each other?” Bucky scrubbed at his face. “I did my research. Wanted to be right. Didn’t want to be wrong about this. About us.”

“Well, you’re not. Not wrong.” Sam cleared his throat. “I really _really_ like you, Barnes.”

“I feel like there’s a but coming.”

“I just…” Bucky had once said that he wanted fun and fast living but those days were well behind Sam now. If they didn’t want the same things then Sam didn’t think he could stay. “You need to know what I want.”

“From me?”

“From life.” Sam sat on a kitchen stool and Bucky sat across from him. He intertwined their fingers. “I want stability. I know I’m Captain America now and you’re the White Wolf and I’m not ready to give up the superhero life just yet. But when I do give it up, I want the life Steve wanted. The one Stark and Barton have – _had_. Kids, a few animals running round, marriage, retirement.” Sam sighed. This was the killing blow. “And I love you but if you don’t want any of that shit, then I can’t…I want you but I want that too. And I’m scared if you don’t want that and I choose you, then I’ll resent you and I’ll end up losing you too.”

Bucky stayed silent for a while, staring down at their joined hands. Sam wondered if he could convince Bucky to grow a beard again. Then he finally looked up. “You love me?” He asked.

“Yeah. I think I do.”

“Can I have some time to think about it all? I woke up this morning and my only immediate plans for the future were to kiss you. Last week, my only plans were going back into the fight and trying to survive. I’ve never…I’ve never been at a point in my life where I could think about anything but that. Not for a long time.”

“Of course.” Sam stood up and walked round the kitchen counter to lean down and plant a kiss on the corner of Bucky’s mouth. “We’ve got plenty of time. We don’t need to rush anything. I’ll still be here when you make that decision.”

Bucky nodded but let go of his hand.

  * **fighting against all odds**



Sam was curled up in bed, thinking about Steve and Nat and Stark and Riley, when his door opened. Bucky snuck into the space next to him, pulling some of the covers away from Sam. Sam rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling, mirroring Bucky’s position.

“I’ve thought about it,” Bucky said.

He’d been gone all day. Sam had busied himself with painting the dining room then driving into town for coffee with Alicia (who had grilled him about him and Bucky’s relationship) then had spent the afternoon sending check-up texts to the rest of the Avengers. Sam had thought about calling him and asking where he was but he’d refrained himself.

Bucky turned his head to look at him and Sam could almost hear his frown. “Have you been crying?” He asked.

“Yeah.” Sam wiped at his eyes. “Just been thinking. How did you know?”

“You get a look on your face after you’ve cried. Like you’re constipated.”

“I didn’t realise you’d noticed.”

“Neither did I.” Bucky laughed quietly. “Shit, Wilson, I love you.” Sam stayed silent until Bucky propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at him, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. “Warts and all.”

“Fucking warts.” Sam sat up, pulling the blanket up to his chin. “What about everything else I said this morning?”

“I can’t promise that I’ll be any good at it.” Bucky gently put the blanket to one side and shifted so he was straddling Sam, their faces inches apart. The intimacy carved a path down Sam’s chest into the pits of his burning stomach and he prayed that Bucky’s next words were what he hoped. “But I can try. And I want to try. I meant what I said the other day – back in the war, I couldn’t think of my future when I was struggling to claw my way out of battle. And I didn’t dare try and dream of a future where I could stand in a church and get married to someone I love. Even in Wakanda, before the Snap, I had kind of told myself that I wouldn’t get married. That I didn’t want to burden someone with all my baggage.”

“Bu—” Sam started but Bucky held up his hand.

“Just let me finish, idiot. That’s what I thought. _Then_ this past year, I’ve fallen in love with you. Hell, I had a tiny crush on you before the Snap but I told myself it wasn’t much of anything.”

“Because you thought I was too handsome?”

“Because I had myself convinced that you were a good guy and I wasn’t. And don’t give me that look. I know I’m not a bad guy. HYDRA forced me to do all that shit but I still did it so I’m not exactly squeaky clean either.” Bucky’s face softened. “But you’re not either, Sam. You’re a good person, a good friend, and no doubt one day you’ll be a good husband and father. But you’re a soldier, too. You did things you regret. You have history. And baggage.” Bucky touched the edge of Sam’s jaw, smiling. “We can get the matching suitcases, baby.”

“You’re so fucking cheesy.”

“Mmm.”

This time Sam was conscious of the kiss, running his hands through Bucky’s hair and letting Bucky open his mouth. Sam wanted nothing more than to flip him over and to just melt into each other for hours but he guessed that Bucky probably hadn’t done this for years.

“You’re thinking too loudly,” Bucky said, pulling away. “What’s up?”

“Who was the last person you kissed?”

“ _Sammy_.”

“James.”

“Some guy in Wakanda. He was from M’Baku’s mountain tribe. It was a celebration of the midsummer festival and we got caught under their equivalent of mistletoe.” Bucky flopped down onto the mattress beside him. Then he moved to rest his head on Sam’s chest, hesitantly, almost like he hadn’t realised he could. “Are you jealous?”

“No.” Sam kissed the top of Bucky’s head then closed his eyes. “He’s not the one marrying you.”

  1. **my wandering hands**



Bucky had stolen all the covers. Again.

Except now Sam could do something about it. He supposed the romantic thing to do would be to kiss him awake or make him breakfast in bed.

He smacked him over the head with the pillow.

“Sam!” Bucky groaned. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m cold.”

“I’ll warm you up.” Bucky held his arms out and Sam climbed into them wiling enough.

  1. **bet the house on you – _fifteen years later_**



“I told you it would snow.”

Sam laughed as he wrapped a scarf around Stevie’s neck and kissed her cheek. “Go on, baby, get your boots on.” She ran off and he stood up, reaching for his own scarf. “You read the weather report.”

“Maybe.” Bucky moved to the door, pulling his coat tighter around him. “Be careful, kids!” Sam glanced over his shoulder and found George pulling Riley around on a sledge, Riley laughing as snow sprayed up at her face. “George, put your hat back on!”

George rolled his eyes in his usual attempt at pre-teenage angst but he jammed his knit hat over his red ears. Sam stood with Bucky, twisting his wedding ring round his finger. “Do you know that we’ve been engaged for fourteen years today?”

“Really?” Bucky frowned. “Shit. Never knew I’d stick with you for that long.” Sam hit his arm. “Three fucking kids.”

“Three fucking kids.” Sam remembered the first moment that George had been born, almost twelve years ago now, kicking and screaming. The first time Bucky had held him. Taking him and Riley into the SHIELD offices when they couldn’t find a sitter. When Stevie had come along and they’d vowed no more living things then Bucky had come home a few months later with a new dog. “Am I an awful person for missing the days when it was just you and me and the chickens?”

“Yes. No. I do miss how everything seemed so _big_ then. Every kiss was like a fucking chapter rather than one word on a page.”

“I wouldn’t change this for the world though. Retirement.”

“Me neither.”

Retirement had been a slow crawl uphill. The kids had shoved them towards it but never-ending missions and bad guys had pulled them back down. Once Bucky had turned to him and said _I’m scared that we’ll never be able to stop_ and Sam knew how he felt – still did. Even now, he was terrified something Thanos-like would come around, and like Stark they’d have to sacrifice everything they’d built. The trauma and fear had never really gone away.

“We made it.” Bucky tapped his forehead. “Stop worrying. You’re thinking loudly again.”

“We could have another,” Sam said, although he knew they were pushing the acceptable parent age. “Another boy. Or a girl.”

“With what energy?” Bucky glanced at the kids before looking back at Sam. “Do you really want another?”

“Maybe. We’ve got the room. And the money. The time. Do you?”

“Maybe.”

“We could adopt an older kid.” Sam started down the steps and Bucky followed. “I don’t think I can do late nights anymore.”

“You fell asleep during _DIY SOS_ last night,” Bucky reminded him. “You definitely can’t do late nights.”

Sam laughed before jogging down the hill to sweep Stevie off her feet. She giggled into his shoulder, her dark curls falling into his face, and his heart burst in his chest. Bucky grabbed the shield off the porch and held it up. It was old now, scratched and faded, without Stark around to update it, and Sam had decided that’s how it should stay. The world finally didn’t need Captain America anymore. They had new heroes. Besides, Bucky had better use for it.

“Hey, does anyone want to see Daddy’s party trick?”


End file.
